Four days ago I had the most outrageous dream I have ever experienced. It all started when I was in the passenger seat of a Jeep. My good friend Matt Chavez was driving and my anonymous dream friends who were female were sitting in the back. We were driving onto the beach towards the ocean on a road that wound its way straight into the water. We were there to watch the waves and the sunset in honor of the beautiful world we live in. Suddenly the water began to reclaim the beach we were currently parked on. So we decided to put the car in reverse to avoid the rising water. As we were in reverse the scene changed and we were suddenly backing up alongside a news crew van. We stopped and as I looked around I was suddenly in a sport utility vehicle. It was now midday at the beach and the passengers in the car with me were no longer my friends. They had become random girls that I had never met before. Looking outside the driver side window I noticed a man was surrounded by a malevolent aura. He looked like he killed people. One of the girls in the backseat of the vehicle was pointing a camera at him. The lens of the camera caught the eye of the man and as he was about to pass the vehicle he made a sudden turn. Coming around the backside of the vehicle he quickly entered the rear passenger door opposite the driver's side. Reaching into his pocket he began to pull out a weapon and raised his arm to strike the driver. In a panic I looked for anything I could use to stop the assault on the woman driving. Fortunately there was a katana at my feet. As anyone would do in a life or death situation I quickly removed the blade from its sheath. I aimed the point of the blade directly for the mans throat and thrust forward. I was surprised by how easily the blade slipped past the skin. Deciding that I should finish this fight to the death I quickly removed the blade from the man and proceeded to aim for his heart. When I struck the man again I was surprised to see that the progress of my blade was stopped just after breaching the cloth of his shirt. He was wearing body armor. I should have expected as much. The scene flashed and I suddenly found myself in a small room seated next to a couple of federal agents. I was being interrogated for the murder of one of the most notorious contract killers in the United States. As I was trying to become familiar with the small room that I was sitting in another agent walked in. I don't know who he was but I just remember that I hated him. Suddenly I grabbed my chair and threw it in protest of his entrance. Then I grabbed the ash tray and threw it as well. Next I reached for the garbage can and threw that across the room in a desperate attempt to express my distaste for the man. At that moment the dream stopped and I woke up.
Prerogative: a right, privilege, etc., limited to a specific person or to persons of a particular category.
Oeuvre: the works of a painter, composer, or author regarded collectively.
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